


Qui a le contrôle?

by NeedMoreCoffee



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-15 19:44:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11237904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeedMoreCoffee/pseuds/NeedMoreCoffee
Summary: It was sick how much the sound the inspector made pleased him, like a terrifying symphony made only from the worst parts of the soul. It was his personal orchestra; the inspector the instrument and he the composer.





	Qui a le contrôle?

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a piece inspired from an RP I am writing with my lovely Valjean. We sort of started writing from a perspective where the years in Toulon would have a heavier effect on Valjean mentally, like a sort of "monster inside" sort of concept. I think it's really interesting to explore that mental part of it and therefore ended up with this little thing. I would say it is most definitely OOC to a certain point, seeing as Valjean would never go this far. Even so, I think it was interesting to try this out.  
> Oh and also! This takes place in sometime during the part they are in Paris in which Javert and Valjean have come to a sort of agreement to live in peace with each other and sort of have grown a friendship/relationship. Which is why Javert uses Jean when he speaks to him. 
> 
> And on that note, Please enjoy!
> 
> NB!  
> \- The text marked with thick letters is the "dark!Valjean"  
> \- The text in cursive is the "real" Valjean doubting his actions.

There was a particular smell in the room that night, a smell that stung his nostrils and made him feel sick to his stomach, something iron like. Blood.

_No! Not now!_

It was not the first time Valjean had smelled that smell. He doubted it would be the last.

**Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it. Even just a little.**

A ringing echoed throughout his head, loud and noisy and constant. Always constant. It was that sort of ringing that wouldn’t stop until something had been done. So, something had to be done…

_Not him, anyone but him!_

…

His large body towered over the helpless creature on the ground beneath him, eyes watching him writhe and struggle. He took his time, slowly grabbing the man by his hair and turning him around to stab a knee hard into his back. The inspector groaned painfully and struggled against him, it was hopeless, they both knew that.

“All those times you had me like this, did you enjoy that Javert?” His breath was warm against his ear, his voice however, cold.

Javert didn’t answer, so he tugged his hair harder and pressed the knee even further into the back of his ribcage.

“Of course not! It was never like that” the words came out heavy and between inhales of greatly needed air.

Valjean gritted his teeth.

“Sure you did! I remember!”

All at once he grabbed the inspectors arm, pulling it behind his back, his large hands wrapped around each unbendable part. Even slower than before he began to twist and turn the skin in different directions.

“Like this”

It was sick how much the sound the inspector made pleased him, like a terrifying symphony made only from the worst parts of the soul. It was his personal orchestra; the inspector the instrument and he the composer.

“Arrêtez, dieu, arrêtez…” (1)

The begging only made it better.

“you want it to stop?”

He eased the twisting; A relieved release of air.

“How badly?”

The music stopped.

“I said...” the knee still held against the back moved and was replaced by his foot, it weighed heavily down between the poor man’s shoulder blades.

“How much?”

Javert gasped and struggled for air, still he did not sing.

**If an instrument does not function properly, it simply needs to be tuned.**

The arm was tugged at again, this time pulled back further behind his back. It gave a struggle, so Valjean tugged even harder.

The music started to play.

“No, no, no. Not that, anything but that!”

He tested the structure of the instrument, bending the arm inch by inch until it gave a sickening little snap. Javert whimpered.

“Jean, please, this isn’t you...”

_Then who is this?_

“I’m not Jean” He growled and bent the arm the way an arm should not be bent.

Javert shut his eyes tightly and mumbled incoherently under his breath, waiting helplessly for the finale.

**Not good enough.**

He snapped it like a twig.

A sickening sound of bone being broken filled the air around them. And then, came the howl. Something like the sound of a lone wolf crying at the moon replaced the first sound, playing loud and harshly.

It lasted only for several minutes until it resolved into heavy breaths and pathetic whimpers.

The perfect ending to his symphony.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. “Arrêtez, dieu, arrêtez…” - "Stop, god, stop"  
> 2\. The title means "who is in control" and is inspired by the song "control" by Halsey.  
> -  
> Sooo.. There you go, some dark Les miserables stuff.. I will probably make some cheerier stuff later, but as for now this is what I felt like publishing. I hope you enjoyed what you read to a certain degree. Thank you so much for reading and please don't hesitate to leave a comment or kudos! Thank you!  
> -  
> Credits!
> 
> Thanks to JarvelousLady for helping me with the french!  
> And thanks to MyNameIs24601 on wattpad for allowing me to use her idea for Valjean!


End file.
